November 9, 2007

November 9 | Dylan Thomas

October 27, 1914 - November 9, 1953: Age 39

Dylan Thomas was justly known as "the modern Keats". Wales' most famous poet took the artistic world by storm with his astonishing poems and his dramatic readings. Although his output was relatively small compared to others, his powerful voice and delivery were perfectly matched to broadcast radio culture.

Thomas embodied a defiant cynical bohemianism that suited the postwar world. Curly-haired and green-eyed, he grew into a chubby, slouching adult who dangled a cigarette from his lips, drank heavily, and offered outrageous quotes for the papers. He had a knack for sound bites: he came to America, he said, "to continue my search for naked women in wet mackintoshes."

He arrived in New York in October 1953 for his fourth American tour, checking in as usual to the Chelsea Hotel with his American girlfriend. His health was obviously suffering from his excesses, and at the time he referred to his wife (who was back in England) as his "widow". During a night of drinking on November 4, he said, "I've had 18 straight whiskies. I think that's the record." He woke up the next morning and returned to the pub, but after a couple of beers began to feel ill and left. Back at the Hotel Chelsea, he began to vomit and experience violent stomach spasms. During that day, he told his girlfriend, "I love you, but I am alone" — a statement thought by some to be his last words. By 2 a.m. the following morning he was unconscious. He died in St. Vincent's hospital four days later, his wife (who had arrived from London) by his side. The official cause of death was pneumonia and a damaged liver.

Why this blog?

I remember realizing one day, as a bored, depressed 21-year-old, that in the instant before my death I would give anything to have this same horrible moment back again. The insight struck me with such depth and force that the experience of boredom was virtually banished from my life.

It's hard to grasp the fact of death... our psyches are deeply conditioned to deny it. Hearing stories of the deaths of others can help wear away some of this conditioning. I'm choosing each death either because it's interesting in some way (death can come at any moment, and nobody can predict how) or because it happens to someone powerful or special (death spares nobody, not even people with special abilities).